When We Touch (In the Night)
by ScaryElwes
Summary: With darkness comes a different kind of royalty. It's time to visit your Queen, Your Highness.


_A/N: I have a slight problem in which I promise myself I'll finally pen a Saw fic, but then spew something for Labyrinth out of nowhere. It's becoming a bit of an issue. But this is my first time publishing anything that resembles smut, so maybe it'll make up for that. Unless it's terrible smut. Then I'm screwed. Do read on, peaches. (Also, my less-than-brilliant title is derived from lyrics to Touch by Daughter. I recommend giving it a listen, because its Jareth/Sarah vibes are off the charts.)_

**When We Touch (In the Night)**

He only arrives after nightfall.

Correction, that's the only time she'll allow him to arrive. For the daytime is when reality dominates her life, shedding harsh light on the shards of her deepest dreams. Daytime means strict lines and even stricter smiles on the faces of people who stopped imagining long ago. Daytime is the world from which she was born but never quite belonged to.

Night is when she can let her inhibitions for his world fly.

He usually sweeps in through her window, saving his grand burst of glitter and magic for more necessary times. And she patiently waits for him, in a bed that is already feeling cold even though she just slipped in minutes ago. He envelops her body in his, and finds her parted mouth with his own eager one. From then on they wordlessly exchange every thought, every frustration, every desire that passed through them during those cruel daylight hours. They always take their sweet time on this part, for it never seems to grow old.

He then lets his hands talk for some bit. He explores her flesh with feather light touches that both drive her mad and make her body sing for more. But he never quickens his pace, the only sign of him registering her arousal being the growing smile on his face. And finally, _finally, _when the teasing is done and she is undressed to his liking, he curls those fingers inside her.

He doesn't care to admit it, but at first he wasn't quite sure how to handle this ferocious need of hers. But now he knows exactly which buttons to push, which secret crevices to seek out that will drive her forward with the lightest of touches. He spares no thought to himself before she meets her own release, for the sight of her writhing before him is one that he wishes he could imprint on his mind forever.

It is only when she has finished, eyes nearly closed and breasts heaving, does he prepare himself for his own pleasure. And she assists him of course, stroking and nibbling in places that tempt him to lose control entirely. She opens herself further and guides him inside, relishing in the low moan that seems to erupt straight from his chest.

As always, he begins with slow movements, seeming to tease them both with that familiar friction. But steadily, he gains in power. It gets to the point where she has to nip at his ear, whispering things about roommates and unfairly thin walls. She disregards her own warning, however, when his fingers reclaim her sensitive nub.

She whimpers into his shoulder, the tingling in her pelvis revealing hints of the explosion that is only moments away. He is only a few steps behind her, so he grips her hip and puts his all into his final thrusts.

They both climax only seconds away from each other.

Like all good things, it must eventually come to an end. So she rests her body over his, having somehow managed to end up on top. She finds any way possible to brush their skin together, finding herself not ready to put distance between them any time soon.

They kiss once more, though this time it is with a languid peace emanating from their every move. These are, after all, kisses that will appear to be mere fantasy once shown in light.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realizes that he could probably ask more of her. If he cared to, he could request that she give her days as well as her nights to him. The image of peeling a ballroom gown instead of a camisole from her body has played in his head before.

But then just as quickly, he realizes that he could never do that. She is a mere drama student, and he a foolish king who happily leaves his world to see her nightly. And yet, they are already royalty in their own element. For in the night, when those strict lines have blurred and what they share is more than possible, she is a queen in every right. And she is radiant.

He watches her idly trail her fingers along his chest, the smile from earlier returning to grace his lips.

Yes, the night is a kingdom that could never die.


End file.
